


Words She Cannot Say

by Peabean



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M, I Made Myself Cry, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Angst, This is the result of my five and dolores feels, Who knew a mannequin and a 58 year old assassin in a 13 year olds body could give me this much hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 21:44:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18837373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peabean/pseuds/Peabean
Summary: ---He turned back to her in one last goodbye and she could do nothing but stare, like the face painted on her was designed to do. Not even wave, or smile or the means to say what she wants to say. She hoped he under stood. She knew be would. She knew he would know she will also cherish every single moment she ever shared with him. All 23 and a half million of them.They could always read each other's minds.---Just a lil thing I wrote to satisfy my Dolores and Five  feels.





	Words She Cannot Say

**Author's Note:**

> Oof that title. cringe. But it was all I could think of on the spot.
> 
> So Umbrella Academy was a ride and Dolores is BEST GIRL.
> 
> Five and Dolores were just. A+. Gucci. All that good shit. 
> 
> Soppp I wrote a thing. About that scene. In the department store. With the sequins. And yeh. Hope you enjoy.

It had to happen eventually.

  
It had to happen eventually, and she wasn't ready for it. Even as she lay, in that green duffel bag, being carried to that department store she knew. All things come to an end, and maybe it was time to end it. It didn't mean she had to like it though.

  
Still, she appreciated seeing his face again, even if it was for the last time. She wouldn't have been able to bear it if he had just left her in that bag. Alone. In the dark. (She knew he would never, which somehow made it harder.)

  
Didn't he understand that she didn't _want_ to be back with her 'friends' if you could even call them that. They were just immobile things; statues, emotionless. Mannequins. Like herself. It was odd. To see the same dead eyes staring at her as she would have stared at them. To see the same doll like complexion. To not be unique.

But it was really all him that made her special.

  
It was at that point, when he placed her on the small podium like structure that all the other mannequins stood on, that she realised how much it needed to be done. To help both of them. To let go of things from the past, to proceed into the future. A second lifetime.

In a way, finding each other in the Apocalypse, alone and the only other people in the world was a coping mechanism. Although an enjoyable one, one they both loved, one that got them through the hardest of times. But one that wasn't really meant to last forever.

  
They were lucky they got as long as they did.

  
She was a mannequin, and he was not.

  
She was inanimate, and he was not.

  
Sure she had _feelings_ and a _conscience_ now, he could _think_. But not everyone will see that. Not everyone will understand. She will always be _just a mannequin_. And that is the truth of the world. Things that aren't perceived as 'normal' will be frowned upon. Disregarded. Thrown away like trash. Stomped on like an insignificant ant.

  
Sometimes she really _hated_ being a mannequin, not able to move. Not able to cry or laugh. Not even breathe or talk. Just there. She will always be just there. But that's okay. She will gladly continue to be just there, in case he needs her, in case she needs him. They always had a way of reading each other's minds.

  
Even now, as his back turns and he walks away, not even able to shed a single tear to show how she feels. Sad. Frustrated. But also happy. Happy is one of the more prominent feelings. She is happy that he is able to recognise that moving on is a good road to recovery. Maybe not the best one in this situation, but _a_ one. 

When he tells a store worker that she'd prefer something nicer to wear, preferably with sequins, her heat clenched. If she were a real person, now would be the time for a break down. He had always known she liked sequins, they were so pretty and sparkled in the right lighting. It reminded her of his eyes.

  
He turned back to her in one last goodbye and she could do nothing but stare, like the face painted on her was designed to do. Not even wave, or smile or the means to say what she wants to say. She hoped he under stood. She knew be would. She knew he would know she will also cherish every single moment she ever shared with him. All 23 and a half million of them.

  
They could always read each other's minds.

**Author's Note:**

> Wooo niceu.
> 
> This was a random midnight epiphany I had. So I just WROTE IT. 
> 
> Hope ya liked it.


End file.
